Saturday, April 3, 2010

True Roots

For the last couple days, I have felt strange fluctuations within myself, moving between a coarseness, and playfulness. I have felt inclined to step boldly beyond boundaries I usually hold in place, and have wanted to push others just a little. I feel it in myself as I sit here right now. The coarseness wants to move away from the vulnerability I have felt so much lately as I open deeper and deeper into the wounded places of my being. It wants to say "oh, fuck! Come on! Get over it already!" It speaks in a very familiar voice, one that has pushed me in this way for years and years. Then, the lighthearted voice chimes in. "Lighten up already! Come on, you know you want to play! Don't take yourself so seriously!" The caustic voice is certainly strong and controlling. I trust the playful one more, for it is a voice of joy. But I see that both of them are dancing with each other while beneath them, another voice is still yearning. One that longs to be safe and accepted and loved. "You're being weak and needy," claims the caustic one. "Just relax and play" says the light one. "Just give me some space" pleads this vulnerable, healing one. "I am strong and light! But I will be more authentically stronger and lighter and more full of joy if I really hold these tender places within."

I wonder quite often how healing actually occurs. How do I know some deep wound has been really truly healed? I've been told that I will know that when it doesn't hurt anymore, when it cannot be triggered. I understand that, really. But I know that time and time again I have thought some things were healed, and then, out of nowhere, WHAM! I realize that there is more to release, more to bring out into the light. I would love it if there was more clarity in this process! But I also understand that the heart is a mystery, the psyche is a mystery; none of this realm is linear or logical. There is nothing to hold on to. I must merely find center within myself and then swim in the flow, wherever it takes me.

I feel some anger rumbling beneath the surface. I feel it in the way that my face doesn't want to let go of its seriousness. I feel it in the tension that is lightly draped throughout my body. I wonder what it is pointing me toward. I wonder what I am overlooking right now. As I sit here, touching into it, there is something about playing it safe that is arising. That's interesting...

The little girl who grew up in an emotionally volatile home yearns for safety and stability. She wants to know, deep down, that everything is okay. She has felt the burden of her sensitivity, flowing without control or choice along the waves of other people's feeling, as well as her own, simultaneously. She remembers the desire to balance things, to ease conflict, to try to find peace at all costs. She gave as much of herself into that as possible. She remembers being given plenty of things, and she remembers the way that shifted into not being given the things she wanted. I'll give you everything, followed by I can't give you much. But now, she sees that these material things were the only level at which this exchange could occur. On the emotional level, she was left adrift. A basketcase mother and a shut down father, one shrieking, the other stoic. She found it much easier to live in an interior world, in retreat. She didn't find solace in friendships, either, as she felt tethered, not allowed space and freedom to really engage in intimate friendships. Feeling no boundaries between herself and her mother, bombarded by her mother's emotional drama, betrayed by her breach of trust, and feeling no personal space in the physical world, she retreated deeper and deeper into her interior world.

These coping mechanisms of a child have become deeply entrenched patterns in my life. Somehow, in spite of the deeply intimate friendships that I have, and the love and acceptance that shower me, I find that on some level, automatically, I am still engaging in those very same behaviors. I have spent much of my life in deep exploration of my interior world. That has made me a soulful woman, an artist, a spiritual seeker, a poet. I have become much more at home in that interior world than in the world around me. I have created personal space that is more than I could have dreamed possible. My home is my sanctuary, beautiful and creative, totally safe. I have drawn to me beautiful people who have offered me acceptance and stability and love. These people have become my Soul Family, a safe harbor for all that I am, all that I experience. I have felt deep respect and trust with these relationships, and have felt the value of appropriate boundaries in feeding that trust and respect. In spite of the deep emotional damage my childhood dealt to my psyche, Life has freely, generously, and powerfully given me all that I need in order to heal.

I have heard myself cling to "yes, but" thinking. Yes, the Universe has given me all that I need in order to heal, but these wounds are so deep. Will it ever be enough? I see the ways that I have not been able to trust all that I have been given here. As a little girl, I had no choice but to trust what I was given, to accept it. Seeing how much pain that has caused, and how much damage was done, part of me has been guarded ever since. How can I trust again? This may happen again! I must always be on my guard, waiting and watching... And I have done that. I have questioned everything, I have questioned everyone, I have kept my distance. And I have felt isolated, alone. I have felt like an alien, like a refugee. Like I will never, ever feel any true sense of belonging in this world, in this life. No wonder I have been so deeply devoted to a spiritual path! If this world has caused me so much suffering, perhaps if I retreat into others, I will finally find safety, belonging, love. And yet, here I am. In this world. Right here, right now.

The old ways of living are clearly not serving me anymore. I am grateful for so much insight into the things in life that have created this way of being. I have often felt the burden of it, and have wanted to slip away from the weightiness, from the suffering of it all. But I see how that is not possible. The only way out is through the fire! In a sense, I am creating a map of my life, a map of cause and effect within myself, and in this process, uncovering "X marks the spot" where the deepest pain is buried. Now, I must excavate each pain, and hold each one lovingly, with full awareness and acceptance. These are the treasures that will season my heart, and offer me true roots into compassion.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Urpi

Urpi
Inside a hostel in Cusco, Peru